I thought (no longer fond of thought) to visualise my mother and father. Finding myself surprised there they were on the other side of the kitchen table. I haven’t spoken about it much yet. Certainly not to them. I looked a little closer to see how they were doing. I was afraid. I drink my …
Category archives: poetry
before thought
It startedWith Jazz 15 years old,Walking down Stoney Lane A tune in my head I couldn’t understandWhy Thinking followed Was I thinking and the music moved?Did the Music move my thinking?
What happened?
I took a step Didn’t stumble A moment later I carried on
Hi You
Do you think you’ve got somewhere? By thinking you have You are either here nor there.
Must be Ursa’s 18th birthday
Duh
enlightenment? inner realisation? autism? Who’d train in that?
Me neither
I’m catching myselfLooking out from other’s eyes Damn A painful gift
When we don’t share the cheese…
The other one smells bad Breathe That’s the advice of the sanity chef But… Don’t forget that you’re cheesed off for a reason There is so much more to eat and your own Breathe Is neither sweet nor sour I heard a voice say: without the dark you can’t find the light They spoke of …
write at the end
The way to write when you start being older Is as if you didn’t feel you had to justify not having lived that life but this; and pen those phrases without apology as if you had a story that was already told and this an addendum just don’t let it be a postscript don’t permit …
If I look at you from afar
If I look at you from afar I can see that you’re quite scruffy Your paths aren’t made Your vegetation’s sparse Rocks pilled up on you like spots Skin is crinkled on your earth It’s as if you’re old when you’re young And I’m measuring being old against you Well not me, I hope to …